


the greatest change starts with the smallest of deviations

by SenjuMizusaya



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Angst, BAMF Miura Haru, Blood and Gore, Drama, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Growing Up, Hurt/Comfort, Keep On Smiling While You Kill Em, Lightning Guardian Miura Haru, Mental Health Issues, Mild Smut, Miura Haru-centric, Organized Crime, Romance, Sexism, Sexual Tension, dark themes, otherwise the plot remains sort of the same, teenagers being teenagers, that way they're more adult than kids and i don't have to add "child abuse/soldiery" to the tags, this waits another 2-3 years before the mafia and reborn hops into the story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2020-09-29 17:26:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20439752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SenjuMizusaya/pseuds/SenjuMizusaya
Summary: She was a smart, merry girl, and therefore she'd make the sensible decision of remaining on the sidelines and cheering others on.That was the intelligent choice. That was the supportive role.But that was not Miura Haru.(The girl jumps and stretches to morph into a falcon which climbs higher and sharpens its talons to become a dragon.)





	1. Bound

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own KHR!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do we know about Miura Haru?  
She goes to Midori Middle, an elitist prestige school, meaning she's either rich, very smart, or both.  
She does gymnastics.  
She has almost no, if any, character growth.  
She has a Lightning affinity.  
She's the most assertive and spunky of the KHR girls (though that doesn't say much because, well, it's the KHR girls...)  
She's mildly obsessive and emotional.  
She's considered pretty.  
We know nada about her family. 
> 
> So why not have a smart Haru whose rich parents are distant and therefore make it possible for her to spend as much time as she does with Tsuna and his gang? And build from there?
> 
> Also, a few OCs for plot purposes (you know, she does have a family... and childhood friends...) but they'll be kept to a minimum. Fyi, it's set in 2011 since that was when the anime started airing.
> 
> Begins with an invented extract from a book dating back to the first generation of Vongolas, meaning that yep, we start with male-assumptions right from the batch.

_As much as it has been opposed, it remains a fact that once attracted and bonded to a Sky, the Guardian cannot under any circumstances other than death be replaced, and even then it is unlikely new Flames will puzzle into the already established circle of Guardians and attach to the Sky, let alone do it adequately. It may therefore be assumed that for the highest success rates, the first man a Sky bonds with shall be the one most suited one for being the Guardian of that specific Flame-type. Therefore it is unadvised to rush the matter of selecting Guardians, let alone try to artificially pair them together. The right Guardian will find his Sky in due time and bond with him naturally. _

-Extract from _Giotto's Musings and Discoveries_, written by G

* * *

It was a class of five year olds sitting in a half circle around their teacher asking them -one by one and with eternal patience- what they'd like to become when they were grown up. The predominant answer for the boys was samurai, while for the girls it was-

"I wanna be the prettiest princess," Hisae beamed, hands clasped in her fluttering mess of pink skirts, "and I'll live happily ever after and I'll have roses by my window that reach all the way to the- to the _sky_."

The teacher smiled, as always. "And what about you, Haru-chan?" 

His gaze was alert, question sincere, curiosity earnest: beneath his attention, one was _real_. One existed as a separate entity with feelings and idea and aspirations, a human individual on their own. It made Haru's grin split her face. 

"When I grow up I will become a princess!" Her brown hair was static due to excessive brushing from when she'd played Rapunzel with Hisae. "Then I'll befriend the dragon guarding the tower people have locked me into and take over the world!"

.

"I wanna learn ballet!" 

She was given a three outfits and attended classes an hour every Saturday morning. 

.

Miura Haru had established a lot of things by the time she was eight years old. 

It was a good thing to be smart. Smart people got into good schools and got good jobs, proceeding to have a good life. Smart people knew how to dress well and behave in order to ease said good life, and made the right friends who would follow the same path of easy living and hard working. Smart people knew what they were meant to be and were clever enough to not try the impossible, happy with what they had. Smart people found happiness in their designated lives and drifted in their golden bubbles through the world. Smart people made the right decisions and were cautious, only taking a risk if it was certain to pay off, meaning it wasn't much of a risk at all. 

Happy people should spread their joy and allow everybody to partake. Happy people shouldn't be anything other than cheery because otherwise they weren't happy and then they couldn't do everything to share their light with others (share and share until they were empty and had to keep smiling and give what they didn't have). 

She had also established that the aforementioned guidelines and rules could be broken as long as you were a male. They could strive for more because ambition was becoming for them yet silly for a woman because honestly, didn't they know how empty-headed and whiny they sounded when they wanted more? 

When stating that to her mother, Miura Megume had answered: "That's not true, silly, why'd you think that?" 

It hadn't been a question but an end of conversation. 

Haru was smart: she could tick the good grades from the list. They were excellent. She also made reasonable choices and any risks she took were so calculated and thought-through they weren't risks at all. Stealing a candy from a shop was forbidden and she'd get in trouble for it, but if she stuffed it up the sleeve of her puffy jacket nobody would notice and she could simply throw the empty wrapper away at school, where nobody would be able to trace it back to her. Sprinting across the street when the traffic light-man still shone red was against the rules, but with the nanny and the right amount of speed she'd be able to do it. 

She was also happy: she smiled and took joy in the sort of things her father shook his graying head at and made her mother smile fondly. She had energy bubbling and sizzling inside and wanted to stay active, wanted to be spend time with friends, wanted to keep on laughing. But that didn't mean she wanted to give up her own place for somebody else to shine. They could find their own place alongside but her, but Miura Haru wouldn't give up her own space.

.

"I wanna learn tap dancing!" 

She was given two brand new shoes and kept at it for two months, quitting the coming summer when deciding she didn't want to spend her Sunday mornings dancing since it meant she couldn't have sleepovers during the weekend.

.

She didn't want to share her bento at school and the teacher scolded: "Don't be so selfish." 

It was a high-end private school filled with rich children who ate marzipan hearts for breakfast and had at least one aid or servant at home. The girl next to her had started crying -which wasn't uncommon- when she hadn't been allowed to have some of her brunette neighbor's food.

Haru's pout was stubborn and petulant. 

"There there," the teacher said to both, "be happy now." 

Being happy wasn't something she could be on command. It was something she earned herself by doing things she liked or being happily surprised. It wasn't a switch to be flicked but apparently happy persons weren't allowed to be anything other than happy.

But Haru _did_ agree they should both lift their chins at the moment. So she said, once the teacher had gone to save a classmate from instant death by falling from the shelf he was climbing: "Eat your own food because this is mine. Ask your kaa-san for something else if you don't like it." 

After which she deliberately ate the parts the other girl had wanted right then and there while she was still watching.

Her smile dripped with syrup: "Yum!"

.

"I wanna draw like a pro!" 

She attended three lessons before dropping it in the grounds that it was boring and she'd rather play in the park on Wednesday afternoons. 

.

"Goodness, Haru-chan, you're all muddy now," the nanny caught the running girl by the back of her collar, her feet peddling for a few more seconds before deciding it was impossible to keep going after the ball. "You must be tired, you've been running all day." 

"Hahi? Not all day," Haru protested, wide-eyed and sincere, "only the past two hours and I'm not tired at all! I can keep on going all day!" 

"Nonsense," was Biwako's blunt answer. "You'll see how tired you are the moment you rest." 

"I don't want to rest! I want to play and run-"

Apparently the topic wasn't up for discussion. 

She twitched and fidgeted the entire carried home, in part to prove her point and in part because she was bursting at the seams with energy, no longer a person but a container of fuzzy sensations tingling in her veins and tickling her muscles until she'd self-combust. 

Haru ran rampant in the garden the moment the car was safely parked in the garage.

.

"I wanna climb!"

She went to every second practice and was told by the supervisor she wasn't allowed play around as much as she did, not everybody could climb like she and a handful of others did, didn't she see that?

Haru stopped going altogether. 

.

The first day of the summer holidays, the sun radiant and unforgiving, Haru was at the beach where the turquoise sea rolled and brushed up the sand like a vast, mighty force leisurely hinting a fraction of its power. 

"Hahi? I can choose whatever I'd like," she checked, bridling her excitement with suspicion. "Whatever I'd like?" 

"Yes," answered Ayato, checking his watch to see how long it'd take before his wife would come and take over. "Whatever will keep you happy." 

"In that case," Haru sucked in a deep breath with a dimpled grin consuming half of her face, "I'd like the do-it-yourself-coup with raspberry, white chocolate and mint ice cream -one scoop each- with chocolate sauce, caramelized nuts and lots of whipped cream! Oh, and a cherry on top! Don't forget the cherry!"

.

"I want to do gymnastics!" 

When Haru was ten she started the bi-weekly practices, two hours on early Tuesday evenings and two more on Saturday morning. She dropped her single hour of ballet for it. It was sweaty and fun and made her feel less like a can of Coca-Cola which had been shaken around and about to erupt into sprays of foam and and bubbles. There, she quickly learned that she possessed remarkable body control and was agile, able of going from statue still to top speed in the blink of an eye. It was most likely the result of all her previous sports and a swath of her own natural leanings. Gymnastics was a taxing sport and the club was competitive, meaning she had to improve her muscles and maximum speed, areas which she had far less affinity for. Her flexibility came in handy for something other than creeping her classmates out with splits, for once, and she didn't hesitate to capitalize on that. That was how Miura Ayato had put it, at least: Haru preferred saying _I do what I'm good at_. And what she was good at was sudden movements and impossible angles. 

She was good, but not that good. Ayato informed her: "You can keep on going there as long as you stay in the top third. You won't be happy doing gymnastics if you don't." 

Haru hadn't known that and was skeptical as to if her gray, surly father could tell her what would bring her joy when she was clearly much more cheerful than him, but said nothing. 

Practices continued being like beacons of light outshining even the sun. 

Her hair got in the way if she had it loose, and her hair wouldn't stay in braids without looking stringy, so she started wearing it up in ponytails which made her face look like an egg, which was even worse. She hated not being pretty and whined before every practice that she'd leave her hair down because if not, she would look _bald_. That was remedied by Megume, who brought her to the hairdresser and introduced her to pencil-straight bangs. 

Haru's smile was honey: "I love them."

.

She stopped demanding additional extracurricular activities after gymnastics settled into her routine.

.

Haru's smile was a field of wildflowers: "I love them!" 

The boots gifted to her were bright lavender with thin straps clinging to her ankles, and she tinkled another laugh: "They're so pretty."

"I knew you'd like them," Hisae supplied with a pleased smile showing off buck teeth. "Hey, you gotta be the oldest in our class!" 

"No," she pouted, "I'm the second oldest..."

"Oh yeah," Hisae recalled belatedly, then added: "Sorry that I couldn't be here yesterday for your birthday, but happy eleventh birthday anyway!"

The brunette brushed her bangs away from her face, checking them in the mirror she had yet to tear herself away from. She'd wormed out of having them trimmed back into their drastic line (_why_, she wanted to scream, _it's so ugly_, but screaming never helped and made her parents harshen), and now tentatively parted them in the middle to tickle against her eyebrows and temples. "Thank you! I wanted you to be there yesterday, but it's okay because you're here now. We have some cake left, it's chestnut and chocolate and was really good."

"It sounds good! Oh, I hope we play family at school again, tomorrow. I want to be mama and you and can be the oldest daughter."

"Sounds fun," Haru shimmied, stretching out her legs and regarding them through lowered lashes. "I think you should be the crazy aunt, though."

"Huh?" 

"They're way cooler," she stated, tasting the new word on her tongue and deciding she quite like the feel of it as it rolled from her pale lips. "Moms aren't- they just aren't." 

"Uh, maybe you're right," the raven-haired girl reluctantly agreed, head tilted. "Can I try the boots, too?"

"Hmm, soon." The brunette studied her reflection with her most beautiful smile, twirling in front of her full-length mirror again. Her searing orange dress clashed horridly with the lavender of the boots: when she thought about it she didn't own many clothes whose colors and shades would go well with her new footwear. Her smile morphed into a sticky sweet one: "Haru-chan is going to ask kaa-chan to buy her new clothes."

Hisae blinked.

.

Megume didn't have time to bring her daughter to the mall and the idea of Ayato shopping was so ludicrous it wasn't even considered. 

"I'll have Biwako accompany you tomorrow after school." 

The nanny bought every single item which suited Haru and would be deemed acceptable by the preoccupied Megume.

"Hahi! Look at that bow, it's so cute and it'd match my boots perfectly- oh, can we buy that cardigan as well? Look at those pearly buttons!"

The staggering price was no issue. 

.

"I'm studying!"

Haru's voice drifted through her shut door and Biwako passed by without interrupting. The brunette had her maths book opened but was absorbed in the comic splayed atop it.

.

"I want to try that," Haru breathed with wide brown eyes as an older athlete swung herself around the bars as though she were a snake, bird and goddess all at once, muscles of her lithe body rippling beneath her skin.

"Soon," promised the coach to the group of wide-eyed, aspiring girls. 

.

"I-" Haru started and the words refused come, they got stuck in her throat like sharp rocks and remained there, cutting and bruising and completely foreign. "I- there's-"

"What," snapped Megume, never averting her attention from where she was applying her expert makeup. "Spit it out!" 

"I..." But the words weren't there, they were clogging in her throat the longer she stood there and she _hated_\- "Haru-chan would like to stay home this weekend instead of going with you to Tokyo!"

She was left home without a fuss.

.

"Excellent grades, as always."

Haru pretended not to preen beneath the praise, biting her bottom lip and feeling a champagne smile bubble to the surface. 

.

"Pass the ball!" Haru hollered as she sprinted down the court during PE, waving her hands around to attract Hisae's attention. "Over here!" 

Hisae passed and the brunette lunged to catch the basketball, relieved she didn't have to dribble it (which she frankly sucked at) and simply shot it up. She missed, the ball bouncing harmlessly of the hoop, but her tallest teammate caught it and threw it in without missing a beat. 

The match ended with a shrieking whistle. 

Haru bounced up and down, arms thrown up into the air and relieved, triumphant laughter spilling freely from her lips. "Yes! We did it!"

.

"Hahi? What happened to kaa-chan?"

.

When Haru was twelve and a half she was smart enough to estimate the probability of this happening, the chances of it all, to be close to nil. It shouldn't have happened. It was almost absurd, almost, because she still couldn't wrap her head around it. 

"I'm glad you've remained my happy girl this last week," Ayato murmured, a large and awkward hand in his only child's shoulder. It occurred to her they'd never been alone before. "If there's anything you want..." 

_I want you to love me_. 

He probably did to some extent, but his inability to dredge up more of the feeling, let alone express it, grated on both their minds and wouldn't leave, had long since settled between them like a farcical silence almost static with how much both were aware of it. Buying her a chameleon in a large, pristine terrarium had been his idea of comfort, together with a walk-in closet and a glittery bracelet currently twinkling around her wrist. 

Miura Megume had been cleaned up before being placed inside the open, flowery coffin currently displayed in front of them: she'd always been beautiful but now she seemed closer to ethereal. And dead. Haru hadn't seen her mother before this, but she'd heard the whispers and pieced together that Megume had been a mangled, abused mess found in a backstreet alleyway. She'd stayed an hour late at a friend's, paused too long in front of a shop window and instead of being discouraged by the prices she'd sauntered inside and bought herself a kitsch necklace without batting her dark lashes (never too much mascara, but not too little, always a thin coating of black, Haru knew). And that display of wealth paired with her pretty face and large bust had resulted in being hurled and manhandled into a dark street, where she was then mugged, raped and dead before the ordeal was even over, left with her bloody designer pants down and cinnamon eyes staring right into the eyes of the one who found her as though hissing _where were you where were you where were you_-

"I want to make sure that never happens to me."

Ayato sighed. 

There was a guiltily relieved part buried deep within her as well, the part which Megume hadn't known her daughter well for enough to even glimpse, which whispered: _had she not died, you would've stopped fighting. Had she still been here she would've cowed you more. Had she still been here, you'd always have remained the princess in the tower without ever daring to extend your hand to the dragon._

Megume shouldn't have died. But she did despite the chances and probabilities and whatnot, she was dead and gone and her grip on Haru crumbled into dust until the was almost laughably free, terrifyingly free, exhilaratingly free, and the feelings whirled inside until she was cut, bleeding, healing, exploding and light until she'd be able to soar through the skies and leave splatters of blood and golden bubbles in her wake. It was as though she stood on the precipice and down there in the dark, somewhere, a dragon lurked. She'd never be demure like Megume had wanted, even should the woman have lived, but she'd never have dared to stand as near the cliff end as she was currently doing, toeing along the edge. Her nerves bristled. Her fibers were champagne bubbles. Her heart yearned to fly with the falcons.

_Haru stepped off the cliff- _

"I want to learn self-defense. The really effective and tough kind." 

Her father hesitated, torn between appearances and guilt for not being able to love his daughter more: "That's not very ladylike." 

"I won't become a tomboy," she swore, an easy oath as she quite liked wearing dresses and pretty shoes and taking care of her thick, glossy hair. It probably helped that she stared up at him with wide doe eyes and a girly dress with fluttering skirts and silky layers and small silvery earrings winking in the light in a way matching her bracelet's tinkling sparkles. 

"If it'll make you happy."

-_and Haru flew_. 

.

Namimori was a large area with too few schools. There were a handful of preschools scattered about, but when it came to education one had to choose between the selective Midori Middle (followed by Midori High), the small, elusive Yumei Middle and High, and the far larger public schools Namimori Middle and High. Another school was strictly speaking necessary, but instead they'd added more buildings and complexes to the Namimori schools and called it a success.

It went without saying that a thirteen year old Miura Haru enrolled in Midori Middle, kept up her excellent grades and joined the gymnastics club. Though she'd already learned for a year, she had two hours of self-defense every Saturday afternoon, the lessons incorporating various ideas and tricks from a myriad of fighting styles including Thai boxing, Krav Maga, jujitsu, judo and many more. At first it had only ever been defense, but within half a year she'd convinced the tutor that were she attacked, she needed to be able to counter as well. She learned she had a mean kick and punch, but her elbows were vicious and her muscle memory made it both easy and fun.

Miura Ayato was rarely home over the course of the day and Biwako had to run the house herself now, meaning Haru found herself with a continuously increasing amount of independence. 

"You're older now," her father would always start whenever she had a new task, chore or freedom. _We won't pester or nag about homework as long as you do it well_ (which she translated into: we don't have time to check on your schoolwork and therefore leave you to it as long as you don't flub it). _It's time to learn how to cook, you'll need it when you go studying at university, how about Tuesday and Thursday? _(Conveniently, those were the days Biwako was off.) 

Money to create costumes for Midori's drama club? No problem, as long as he could review the expenses to see that she'd been sensible about the choices. The price in itself mattered not. 

Another set of shoes? If she made it two pairs she could buy them herself and learn what good shoes were since she'd have to wear them the coming year. 

Tickets to the cinema? Of course, he'd increase her pocket money so that she could (easily!) afford it but still learn how to manage a budget, which she'd have to educate herself on because he as really busy at the moment, why didn't she come back later? 

Throw a goodbye party to Hisae who was moving to Akita? He'd hire a room because there was no way he'd endanger his own house with a flock of thirteen year olds over. 

Accompany his daughter to the theater? 

That, he was too busy for.

.

A day in Haru's fourteen year old life started with her usual light, healthy breakfast consisting of tea, an apple and dark bread smeared with honey. She wore her dark auburn hair up in her usual high ponytail, stylish bangs vaguely right-swept for the shortest ends to skim her eyebrow and longer ends brushing against her cheekbone, vision unhindered and the left bit resting softly against her temple. Her uniform consisted of a white blouse reaching her elbows tucked into a dark gray skirt meant to reach her knees (but, as just about all girls, she had sewn it up to reach mid-thigh and once out of her house's line of sight she hiked it up to display most of her thighs), over which she wore the customary yellow blouse and kept her tie in a perky blue bow. As white socks didn't suit her (she was too pale, dark-haired and dark-eyed to wear white without looking like a ghost) she kept to black ones and wore neat navy derbies.

_Blue shoes are a must_, her fashion sense instructed, _otherwise the blue bow looks random_. It was either that or black (perhaps gray, for the sake of her skirt and matching jacket) shoes paired with blue knee-socks, which was prohibited. When it came to socks it was either black, white or an angry email home. 

At school she floundered around with two girls from the volleyball team (one with bleached pigtails and the other with pink lipgloss) two stick-thin girls jogging after school to stay fit and slim and to feel comfortable in their tight, tight jeans which they wore during free time and might as well have been painted onto them, as well as a handful more who fluttered around and wanted to be part of the clique. She scored well on each test and kept to the top twenty of their year without studying more than necessary (she'd never give up her romance-novel time, or any other sort of time for that matter). At lunch she usually decided where they'd sit and eventually the place got crowded as friends of friends joined until entire sections of the school were occupied by herds of girls. After school was over she attended the two hour long gymnastics practices as she'd joined their club, working hard and telling herself _quicker, stronger, faster, stronger_ whenever she didn't cut the deal. In the changing room she'd titter and blush and laugh until tears sprung to her eyes and her stomach ached. 

It was a fifteen minute walk home and there were plenty of people she could spend it with, some of which at least half of the way and others the entire way. 

But she never did.

Haru spent it alone, at times with her pink earphones on and sometimes without, but always ensured nobody would see her walk through the school gates since that was a ticket to being accompanied home. She usually climbed over the metal fence a little further down the schoolyard, where a scattering of trees and bushes hid her as she clambered over it with practiced ease and landed in the other side with a nimble jump. 

At home she'd eat a cookie or yogurt as to not starve until dinner, then lazed around since nobody bothered her during the late afternoon and early evening (Biwako was either off or cooking), her activities ranging from reading, watching TV or fixing up a costume, all the while occasionally messaging a friend or five with her bright turquoise phone from which three toys dangled: a violet music note, a smiley face and a blue frizzy fluff-ball. She had two more gadgets attached to her school bag: a glittery trio of pink cubes and a winged unicorn sheep. After dinner she'd alternate between being frank about what she was doing and lying about studying, which she otherwise only did the evening before a test. 

Her first year at Midori Middle went seamlessly. Her grades were excellent, she had various friends, self-defense was fun, she'd discovered that not only did she like shounen and shoujou, but also love for particularly edgy josei manga, as well as a single challenge in gymnastics. It was fun. 

But never exciting. Not the kind of exciting which made her heart beat until it'd break out of her chest, not the kind which coursed along her veins like golden light and stinging electricity, not the kind which made her soar through the air. 

After presenting her report, Ayato asked: "Congratulations, Haru-chan. Is there anything you'd like?" 

She'd expected the question: it came every year. Usually she asked for an extra desert of her own choosing, or being allowed to go to the amusement park with her closest friends (but not Hisae, Hisae was at the other end of Japan), perhaps even a necklace or headphones. This time she didn't. 

For her first year of middle school and wanting more of life, she asked: "I want to learn falconry." 

Only to be reminded that for all her freedom, Ayato still held the strings attached to her wrists. Owning a falcon was out of the question -"you already have a chameleon, isn't that enough? And imagine all the maintenance work"- but he did concede to let her spend a day with a falconer. 

That day was sunny with slivers of clouds misting across the skies and softening the harsh rays a shade. Haru chose forsake the beige gladiator sandals and green summer dress which would've been brilliant for the day, opting for a pair of gray pants and trainers for the forest. Her usual ponytail remained, but she pinned her bangs back with teal clips (which conveniently matched her shirt). 

The falcon was a sleek, brown beauty named Shikamaru after the Naruto character. 

"Hahi! Really? He's my favorite," Haru gushed excitedly, refraining from clapping her hands together to avoid upsetting Shikamaru. 

"Yeah," answered the man in a thick Kyoto accent, "he's mah fave dude, too, he's phretty swell. They probahbly share brains, they're both hella smahrt." 

He gently undid the straps binding Shikamaru's claws to his thick leather gloves, and then the one to the leather hose around the bird's head, revealing intelligent eyes scanning everything for a split second before taking off, spearing into the sky on powerful wings beating the wind into submission. 

When the falcon had soared through the skies for a few minutes without bothering to check for pray, she asked: "Will he come back to you?" 

"Yeah," answered the man simply, "he's cool an' lazy like tha', gurl." 

Shikamaru looped and twisted a while longer as through reveling in being the unchallenged master the skies. Yearning burned hotly inside, scorching her tongue and licking at her skin like sizzling sugar. Awed by the sight and feelings cracklings inside, she breathed with wide eyes: "Haru-chan wants to fly, too." 

Shikamaru then dived, slicing through the air and crashing claw-first into scattering doves trying to flap away from the predator. The prey fell from the sky, dead, and was then swept up a second later. 

"Haru-chan wants to be like a falcon." 

At the end of the day she got to try on the leather glove and carry Shikamaru around as long as the bird was hooded and strapped the leather glove she now wore. She was surprised by the weight of him and the keenness of his gaze before the leather hood was slid on, his sharp eye fastened right onto her. With her free hand, she gently stroked his soft, smooth feathers.

"You're so beautiful," she whispered against his neck, breathing in his odd, feathery scent, "I wish you good hunting." 

.

The next time Haru went shopping, she'd bought herself four pairs of gloves: two fingerless ones of a black respectively gray, leathery material and two others of thin lace (all of which went well with her Midori uniform): one blue and one banana yellow pair. She wore the former in her first day back at school. 

"They're so fabulous," the volleyball girls chorused, fawning of the delicate, sapphire-tinted material spanning across her slender hand like a second skin. 

"Thank you," Haru laughed before waving them goodbye as she headed toward the scattering of trees and bushes near the fence while the other two girls returned to the gym where they had to help clean the floor as punishment for being late to practice. 

Before monkeying over the fence, she fished out her phone from her magenta backpack and typed with expertly manicured nails tapping across the keyboard: 

_Second year at Midori Middle has officially commenced!_

A new toy dangled from her phone: a flying falcon made of plastic.

.

It was three days into his second year at Namimori Middle at Sawada Tsunayoshi was tired. The sort of tired which ate away at his brain until he felt like even more of an air-headed idiot than usual, tired until it took all his willpower to get up from his chair and drag himself to the next class which would suck even more of his insides away until he was a walking shell about to crack and fall apart. 

He had zero grades. 

He had zero friends. 

He had zero self esteem, love or respect. 

He'd dropped all his lunch onto himself in the cafeteria which, paired with watching Kyouko receive her twenty-ninth public confession over the last year (he'd counted) made it feel as though his own stomach was eating his heart. It was a decidedly unpleasant feeling, but at least it was some form of sensation. Ever since winter he'd felt down and numb, perhaps because of a vitamin D deficit which was his mother's theory, but most likely for the sole reason that Life Was Shit. 

He was halfway the gently arched bridge when he stopped, peering down over the twinkling blue water gurgling below. It was deep, cold, and he couldn't swim. Usually he hurried by this part of the way home, just in case a bully decided to go a step further and rid the world of his wasteful existence (one of their favorite jeers). But today he felt nothing, exactly nothing. 

He didn't like that, didn't like that gaping gray hole opening its maws within him. It sat all wrong, dug and chilled and rooted itself there. He wanted it gone. Maybe adrenaline- 

No, it was a stupid idea, he should get home: Nana would be worried. 

Yet- 

He really shouldn't. 

But Tsuna wanted to feel again, feel it so much that it drove everything cold and gray away, wanted to be able to go home and burst at the seams with emotions like he'd used to. Even if it was shock or fear. 

He climbed onto the low, wide ledge, tips of his shoes outside. A trickle of trepidation shifted inside when he glanced down at the rushing waters. The breeze suddenly felt less kind and gentle, far more volatile. It had been an idiotic idea, he really should get off. He was clumsy enough to be risking his life at the moment. 

Instead he leaned forward, trying to catch a glimpse of the bottom and-

"Get off!" 

He almost lost his balance with surprise, milling his arms before standing steady again to whip his light brown head around, amber eyes wide. Most of him remained incarcerated in that gray ice, but the part of him which had despaired at losing Kyouko (again!), which still felt shame at causing a scene in the cafeteria by dropping his food or tripping over his feet in the hallway, which still winced and trembled beneath Mochida's beady glare of contempt, which still panicked and flailed and felt, made him pause. And double take. And promptly both freak out and gawk. 

She was from that elite school, Midori, he could tell that much from her uniform, but that wasn't the point. He could spot a cool kid when he saw one (being the school joke made sure of that) and this was one. Her bangs were too fluffy and and flawless to fall like without having been deliberately styled, her skirt was hiked up even more than Hana's and she wore fingerless gray gloves matching said skirt and the jacket slung casually over one shoulder, gripped by a single gloved hand (and yep, that was azure nail polish), and the phone she was clicking shut in her hand had enough frivolous toys hanging from it to break her wrist. 

It disappeared into her bag, stuffed in there along with her books and hairbrush. At least she didn't wear makeup, because those were usually girls on the meaner end of the specter. 

And she was talking to him. 

"Are you going to stand back yet?" She had an expectant, demanding tone as though the idea of not being obeyed was completely foreign to her. 

"Um," was Tsuna's intelligent answer. "Hi." 

"Don't 'hi' me," she chided, then traipsed right over in those shiny leather shoes of hers, still doing that cool jacket-casually-over-shoulder thing which he knew from experience he was unable to pull off. Her eyebrows were drawn together with genuine worry, her hand flashing out and grabbing ahold of her forearm. With a single tug he was sent reeling back off the low ledge, almost stumbling if it weren't for her steadying him. Great, for all her slenderness and nailpolish and styled hair she was still stronger than him. 

Those was his last scraps of pride, right there, jumping into the river and not waiting for him to leap after it. 

"You have to keep on living," she informed him primly, patting his shoulder with her free hand. "What would you parents say if your bloated corpse was brought to their doorstep?" 

"My bloated corpse?" 

Was she threatening him? What had he done wrong? 

"Yes," she exclaimed, "what did you think would've happened after you jumped and died?" 

"But," he tried. 

"Life can't suck so much you'd want to end it!" 

"But-" 

"So listen here, poofhair-kun, I'm going to accompany you to your place of residence and inform your legal guardian about what you have just attempted to do," she chided and probably used all those complicated words just to bewilder him. 

"But I wasn't trying to jump. O-or commit suicide," he objected and she froze, a rosy tint creeping up her cheeks. "I just wanted to see the bottom." 

For the wrong reasons, granted, but he wagered it was still a valid point.

"Hahi! I'm so sorry, I'd thought-" she started, dark eyes flickering with distress. "Oh, I'm so embarrassed now..." 

"N-no it's..." he started, panicking a tad at the knowledge that he'd upset a girl. "I, um, I'm sorry. And embarrassed." 

He was. He really was. The feelings which coursed trough him felt familiar and nostalgic like old friends, odd and welcome and such a relief he almost started either laughing or crying right there in front of the cute stranger.

"Oh, phew," she breathed out, beaming out of nowhere. Mood swings were standard for girls, right? Or only when they were on their periods? Was she on her period? Couldn't girls have outward signs such as a red pin on their shirts or something to warn innocent passersby? "Hey, I'm Miura Haru, by the way! And you?" 

"Um, uh, er," he gathered his wits, "Sawada Tsunayoshi." _People call me Dame-Tsuna_. "B-but you can call me Tsuna." 

Was that too direct? Was that the right move for friendship? Or did girls consider such invitations to be pervy, and end up screaming _eeeewww_ and then warn every female they'd run into the coming day about that weirdo Tsuna from Namimori Middle? 

"Pleased to meet you, Tsuna-kun," she grinned with dimples and bright eyes. "Can I still walk you home?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title "bound" is definitely intended to mean "leap", "tied up" and "meant to be" all at the same time. I'd say it fits.
> 
> There a plenty of miniature differences here at first, which in turn lead to the major canon deviation in the death of her mother who, though distant, was the one trying to tame her into the Haru who cooks and cleans and supports, though she'd never have been able to completely stifle the Haru who abruptly tells Tsuna and Co off and rants angrily.  
Then there's Tsuna himself. I imagine that he was pretty close to giving up on life in the beginning of canon, and here almost a year more has passed so he's pretty glum. He's passed The Threshold to that dark and lonely place.


	2. Crane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nana POV in the beginning of the chapter, expect naive conclusions about Tsuna's life. Also, I always suspected that Reborn somehow schemed the beginnings of Tsuna's various friendships which makes me kind of sad: here the mafia is late and his friendships develop nonetheless :)

_Whilst the Sky will be marked by his Guardian by way of taint, the Guardian will find a bond to be in place after the Harmonization, irrevocably binding him to his Sky and leader. The Harmonization strengthens the already existing ties between these two men. These connections may first arise through a natural inclination toward one another, attraction caused by an instinctive urge to complete the Sky-Guardian relationship with somebody compatible, yet are most oft only truly solidified through camaraderie and hardships. _

-Extract from _Giotto's Musings and Discoveries_, written by G

* * *

It was by pure luck Sawada Nana found herself at the window facing the front yard and street when her son came walking home from school. She was doing her triweekly flower-watering round of the house and was tending to the pot of yellow begonias placed upon that particular windowsill when she spotted him opening the gate. About to wave and call out, she caught herself:

He wasn't alone.

It had been three years since the last time he'd been walked home by somebody from school. Then she noticed the dark auburn ponytail and uniform cut. Her Tsu-kun had been walking with a girl! Smiling to herself, she watched the two interact and say goodbye before they parted, her son in deep thought with for once no slouchily dragging steps and the girl strolling away whilst putting a pair of large fuchsia headphones on.

"Who was the cute girl?" Nana asked the moment Tsuna stepped into the house. He froze at her appearance in the doorway leading to the kitchen, visibly searching for words. 

"Nobody," he finally settled for, "um, I gotta do my homework now so bye!" 

With that, he rushed up the stairs with thumping steps and Nana knew the girl was absolutely not nobody. Smothering an excited giggle, she continued her round. She couldn't have her flowers wilting, after all. 

.

"I'm home!" 

Home didn't answer Miura Haru back.

.

The next morning, while Tsuna was trying to stay awake in order to swallow his breakfast, a flicker of movement caught Nana's eyes: the ponytailed girl had arrived at the gate, smiling absently and absorbed in whatever song was currently playing in her searing pink headphones. The mother observed the girl for a few more moments: large brown eyes, slender, immaculately styled fluffy bangs and a uniform betraying she went to Midori and not Namimori. 

"Your friend is here," Nana chimed, gauging her son's reaction with a suppressed smile. First he tensed, as though embarrassed (a few times a black haired boy named Mochida had appeared near their house: truly, there was no need for Tsuna to try hide his friends from her, it was almost as though he wanted her to think he had nothing to do with them). Then he slanted a furtive glance toward the front yard and tensed even further, but more openly this time around, more bewildered. It was almost too sweet for Nana to handle: her son didn't know how to handle a girl! Then she noticed he was so far gone into trying to figure the situation out he was forgetting to eat: "Tsu-kun, your breakfast is getting cold!" 

He proceeded to devour the rest of it, threw back the tea and stifled a few coughs as he placed the bowl and cup upon the sink, then sprinted out into the hallway and had slipped into both the jacket and shoes in record time. Nana allowed herself to laugh, a free and sunny sound able to thaw even the coldest of hearts: "Tell her she can come over for tea this afternoon!" 

"Sure," was the garbled answer, the last syllable cut off by the door swinging shut behind him. From the kitchen window the mother watched her son approach the Midori student, his features all confusion and wariness. She could almost hear him ask what she was doing here, to which she beamed back and answered something with had Tsuna stammer and shrink into himself like a turtle. 

She was a pretty thing with large eyes and dark auburn hair (even though her skirt was the dangerous sort of short) and when she gesticulated it became apparent her hands were adorned by fingerless gloves. A tentative smile had started shying onto Tsuna's features as they set off together towards school.

Nana smiled. 

.

"Midori starts later than Namimori by twenty minutes," Haru assured Tsuna, "so I can walk you here every morning!" 

The boy in question managed some sort of hopeful yet cringing smile which she had minor problems figuring out. "Uh-huh. Yeah." 

"Great!" Haru glowed, absently ensuring her right-styled bangs were still impeccable despite the breeze, "oh, and what do you like doing after school? I'm into gymnastics, falcons and bubble tea myself."

"Oh," was his answer, followed by a pause, then lips parted to speak but then swallowed the words down as though they weren’t good enough, never good enough, "I like, ah- steak. A-and..." 

He didn't finish that sentence, shrugging, then changed the rhythm of his steps, bit the inside of his cheek and finally started reddening under Haru's intense scrutiny, the cocoa of her eyes gleaming like the edge of a knife beneath dark lashes. 

"You don't have any hobbies?" '

She was being too straightforward, she knew. But it didn't matter. 

He shook his head, a jerking motion. But then he seemed to consider something: "I- I like watching nature. It's really peaceful and calming. But I totally get that you don't because I mean who would ahaha it's really lame." 

Haru was quiet for a moment, the kind of quiet which stifled everything around her and made Tsuna's fidgeting hands twitch even more. It took the brunette a moment to lapse out of her thoughts, realizing what her blankly brooding face was doing to the fragile and possibly suicidal boy. 

It jarred her, and she conjured a dimpled smile which was as genuine as her longing to get to know him. 

"No, I think it's lovely! I just adore nature, there's something so... _real_ about it." 

(_Haru is all ages but young and wears glittering bracelet at a funeral and a pretty dress at a party and she twirls in front of mirrors and spies at her reflection, trying to find something in there. Find herself.) _

"Seeing the leaves in the wind, moving and dancing and so plugged into the present, so _natural_... It kind of makes me think about society." 

It was Tsuna's turn to be quiet and think for a moment: when he did so it was light and gentle like a spring shower of petals, contemplative and unobtrusive. 

"I- I actually know what you mean," he settled for, "there's no planning, no meaningless ac- words, there's just reality and the beauty of it, simply there. O-of course there are lesser s-sides, but it's still raw. Meaningful." 

(_Haru is soft and small and five years old and sometimes wonders what is real and what isn't._) 

"Feeling real," Haru murmured and eww, was that her voice just there? It sounded gravely, as though clogged with gritty emotions. She cleared her throat, her smile sweet and fresh like vivid strawberries. "Feeling real is so special, it's like- like bubbles beneath your skin and something fizzy, glorious- it's like static!"

"Hm," Tsuna bobbed his head, breath shuddering when they turned the corner and his school became visible down the street, "I- sure." 

Haru raised a single elegant eyebrow, lips forming a pout. "Naw, Tsuna-kun, you're allowed to disagree!" Then she lit up, a dance in her step: "Hahi! Tell me what you feel like when real!" 

"Oh, ah," he started with an embarrassed chuckle, eyes squinting as he turned red and looked away, hands deep into his pockets as though he wanted to disappear into them, "I feel... full. Complete. Like I belong and like there's meaning and everything is right and you-" 

He stopped and she saw that his hands were tight fists even in his pockets, eyes unfocused with a tide of emotions. She tilted her auburn head to the side. _He's never had a friend to talk to, he's never felt real, he's never been able to dream about the falcon soaring and the dragon roaring._

Her face softened, resting a single gloved hand upon his skinny shoulder: "Yes?" 

"You make me feel a little more complete," he managed, then abruptly turned an actual crimson color and shook his fluffy head: "Oh no that came out wrong I'm so sorry I didn't mean it like that please forget I ever said that-" 

Haru smiled and cut in with gentle firmness and a chiming laugh: "I won't leave, don't worry." 

He sucked in a deep, calming breath. "S-sorry." 

"If it helps, you make me feel like I could be real, too," Haru grinned, and it was true. That energy which had made her bounce up and down as a kid and turn to sports tingled beneath her skin, an odd yearning of sparks telling her to stay with him, protect him. 

She'd had crushes before and being Miura Haru meant she'd been more than welcome to try kissing some of them, but this was different. 

This was _very_ different. 

Like gas, it filled her head with her parents failing at parenting and wanting to do what they couldn't right now, of wanting to stand by his side and make him feel better and maybe become a falcon herself in the process. (Maybe even reach the dizzying heights of dragons with lightning in their blood.) 

"Heyheyhey, let's meet up at the bridge again after school, okay?" Haru exclaimed, buzzing with energy and ideas and longing. Only gymnastics, fighting and Shikamaru the falcon had ever matched this. "I mean, I know I barely know you and all but- I'm so honest around you, I'm just me and I know you understand. You're an understanding person." 

"Um, thank you?" Tsuna started, something odd happening to him. His skin seemed to glow and his eyes stood warm with cinders, and his lips were trembling oddly. Oh, he was smiling. Smiling without the mouth movement, but still smiling with such an innate happiness it made him look radiant for a moment. 

Sawada Tsunayoshi was kind of cute, actually. 

"I'd- yes, yes that sounds good. Very good." 

"Great," Haru clapped her manicured hands together, which she then eyed with an evaluating flash, "jeez, that pink nailpolish is starting to wear off already. I'd say I'm feeling for a minty green, how about you?" 

He actually considered it. "Green would be n-nice."

Haru smiled prettily, eyes crinkling. "Damn right, you've got good taste. Hmm, you strike me as the orange kind of person." 

"Uh-"

"Either that, or a smoky gray- yes, that combination would be terrific!" 

"Gray isn't- it's not, you know, my thing."

"Oh," Haru smacked her lips straightening her uniform jacket over her dramatic waist, "guess I can make do, I claim green and gray- oh and gold- as my colors, you get orange and beige. Hmm, and silver, we need some contrast in there..." 

"C-contrast? Contrast for what?" 

Haru had been about to answer, tossing her silky ponytail over her flashy headphones to start, but was cut off:

"Oi, Dame Tsuna!" 

They'd reached the gates (not as ornamental as Midori's, she noted critically) and a trio of sturdy boys on the school grounds had spotted them. She knew their type instantly, scanning their muscled shoulders and swaggering steps and confidence- confidence not only in themselves, but also in their movements, the kind of assurance she herself had earned in spades after all her sportsmanship. 

Her smile cooled into a standard curve of the lips, gaze like tiger's eye stones. When Tsuna's feet rooted themselves into the cement she remained by his side, flicking up her turquoise phone with its six dangling toys: the violet music note, the smiley face, the twin fuzzballs and the new falcon, as well as the winged unicorn sheep and trio of glossy pink cubes previous attached to her bag. 

She texted: _will be a lil late looool xoxoxo _

The chat had three people: Haru, Eri of the bleached pigtails and finally Naoko of the cherry lipgloss. Both answered instantaneously, meaning they'd been on their phones.

Eri answered: _whuuuut why haha_

Naoko replied:_ lil late as in we can say ur crying in bathroom or lil late as in first lesson, we'll cover_

The three boys had reached them by then and she quickly sent, nails clicking: _bathroom thx gg_

Haru pocketed her phone again, tilting her head to the side. 

"Scram," the black-haired boy in the middle snapped at Tsuna, his eyes cold. Distant. Refusing to acknowledge anything other than the thin boy's supposed no-goodness. "Now." 

"That's not nice," Haru cooed, smile not falling, resting a dainty hand on her friend's shoulder. "Why'd you say that?" 

"Cos he's got no business with you, tha's why," he answered with a smirking scoff, "not with anybody." 

"Oh," she blinked with fluttering lashes, glad her nail polish was already a tad chipped, "and somebody else here has business with me?" 

The trio snickered, eyeing her, probably thinking this was as easy as catching butterflies. 

Haru wasn't oblivious to what people saw when they looked at her: pretty and leggy and stupid. It made her smile widen with syrup and honey. 

"Yah," said one of the followers, "but first Dame leaves." 

Tsuna was starting to tremble beneath her, the shudders tickling the palm of her hand and something clicked: these were the ones who were turning his life into a vat of poison. 

The tickling in her palm felt more like outright static, now, currents of energy chugging and sparking through her body. 

An odd sound left her lips and she realized, a moment later, that it'd been a giggle. Giving Tsuna a slight push she murmured: "See you later, alligator." 

It took him a moment to move, eyes widening with disbelief and betrayal and hurt and confusion, but then years upon years of being bullied caught up and he bolted away, stumbling across the tarmac with his head bent. 

"My name's Mochida, cutie," said the raven in the middle, approaching the girl whose eyes were large and bright, smile as unsuspecting as they came. 

"Hi," Haru greeted with a polite smile, blinking once again, "what kind of business was it you had with me?" 

They laughed, as though she'd told a funny joke. Her blood pumped faster, pulsing in her ears, but beneath the anger something even more dangerous was starting to simmer: light, golden champagne bubbles of eagerness. 

"Just tellin' ya that we're much better Namimori guys to hang out with," said the other follower with a jaunty laugh, and Haru's smile widened. 

Bared teeth. 

Grew sharp. 

Pretty and sharp like glass and glass could cut through wrists like butter, she'd know, because Awase-sensei not only taught her self-defense now but also give suspiciously specific tips here and there on what she was absolutely not to do since it would have disastrous consequences. 

Such as karate-jabbing the throat to crush the trachea. 

"Oh really, I'm glad that was all, because I have some business as well," she beamed, clapping her hands together and a sugar high-like feeling spreading inside, her veins were sizzling impossibly and she was weightless, lightheaded, she could feel something inside of her-

There was something within- 

It was unfurling its wings, feathers brushing inside and making her smile turn into a grin. 

It was Mochida's turn to blink, but that was all he could do before the falcon within Haru squawked and tried to violently break free form her body, making her move fast, faster, hard, harder: lightning pierced her muscles. 

She'd practiced individual movements with Awase for years, both with him and squishy dummies. 

The motions now flowed like water, and water conducted electricity. 

Mochida took a step back, surprised, when she flashed forward, her orbs bright. She caught his arm, twisted, and then her other elbow was in his gut and rammed his solar plexus. 

He sunk to the ground, gasping for air she knew would hardly come for the next minute or two. 

"That's for my friend," she stated primly, before one of his friends lunged at her while the other ran away on quivering Bambi legs.

She caught the perpetrator by the wrists but realized he was too heavy with muscles for her, opting to side step rather than wrestle and have her arms broken. He followed, fist catching her ribs though the brunt of the force skimmed past when she tried to evade. 

The falcon inside beat its wings at the same rhythm as her heart. 

"Bitch," he spat, Mochida a heap in the background, and advanced again. His eyes were slits of rage and indignation. Fear made Haru's blood pump faster and glee shriek through her head, louder and louder and louder until it was a whistle. 

She's have to end this quickly but at the same time she wanted to gouge his eyes out just to prove that she could and the high of this- 

It was- 

Oh hell and heaven- 

"Haru-chan is not a bitch," she snarled through a grin which shouldn't be there, pupils like pinpricks, and he lunged but she did what he hadn't expected: stepped close, redirected his fist aimed at her face, and since his center of gravity was now too far forward she simply kneed him between the legs as he fell toward her. 

Hard.

And she had bony knees. 

Now two boys were down at her shiny shoes but her heart wouldn't stop thumping, her toes were twitching and the wild falcon inside screeched for freedom and more and everything she'd bundled up inside was wriggling and twisting and spreading and her head was still distant yet sharp and- 

"No fighting on school grounds," somebody droned, to which Haru's head shot up, nostrils flaring. 

There was a young man there, probably in his last year, wearing that weird hairstyle she'd heard about: paired with the red band across his arm, that meant he was a DC member. 

_Sock him to the moon,_ the beast inside shrieked, _let's bathe in blood and gold_\- 

Instead, Haru neatly folded away the falcon and blinked. For real, this time. She'd have to tame it, had to control whatever had just awakened. She offered an apologetic smile, brushing off her modified skirt with warm cocoa eyes. 

"Sorry," she winced, nimbly dancing back the two steps she'd taken past the gates whilst fighting, "it won't ever happen again!" 

So many promises she couldn't keep. 

Oh well. 

That was life, and Haru _yearned_ for and was madly _in_ _love_ with life. 

.

"Who was it." 

Kusakabe didn't need to glance to his left to know Hibari had joined him, and the vice-president of the DC rested his gaze on the young girl for a few more moments as he formulated his answer. She was leaving, her slender form shrinking as she skipped down the road, pink abominations for headphones secure on her head. 

"A Midori student, arrived here with Sawada," he reported after a moment, "fashionable, lithe muscles, some form of training though little experience fighting. Civilian." 

"Get the name and address." 

Kusakabe nodded. He knew Hibari well enough to know the Demon Prefect's mouth had split into a jagged line. 

The bell rung. 

"She'll be late." 

"Yes, sir." 

"Unless you leave now, you will also run late."

Kusakabe hastened away, finally glancing over at the young man whose ordinary frame belied the raw power and bestial qualities within. Hibari was gazing down the streets, spiderlike hands clasped behind his back. 

The girl's auburn ponytail caught the sunrise and gleamed red. 

. 

"I- you- this morning," Tsuna started, and Haru laughed, peals of laughter like bells and not of this world. 

"Yes," she agreed, "I was serious this morning, I told you we'd meet at the bridge." 

"That's not..." he started, but then smiled, awkward as though he'd almost forgotten how but there nonetheless, "thank you."

Haru slipped her hand into his, a single heartbeat pulsing all the way into the tips of her fingers as they started walking toward his home. The clouds were rolling away from the sky, leaving it clear and vast and ready for a new day. 

"_Always_." 

.

Haru liked dressing up, reveled in being a princess with shiny details and curving mouths, but that was just about the only upside that evening. 

Her hair was down and curled, parts pinned back with hair clips gleaming gold in the lights, her dress a dark gray with yellow accents. Bands dangled from one wrist, studs gleamed in her earlobes like sunset drew drops, her lashes were darkened by mascara (not too much, not too little) and her dainty shoes matched it all perfectly. 

Miura Haru was fourteen years old and her father clapped her shoulder, a foreign movement, his unfamiliar laughter warming the room. "Oh, yes, my daughter is lovely, such a dear." 

"So sweet," somebody smothered, "like honey."

She smiled nicely, syrupily, the others agreed and then the dull, formal dinner meeting moved on. 

She'd played her part. 

(Syrup and honey smiles were never earnest.)

. 

"Awase-sensei, I'd like to spar more during our sessions."

.

"What's that?" 

Haru had thrown her head back and chuckled, eyes alight with fireworks and excitement. "Don't you love it?" 

"I-it's nice," Tsuna had tried, holding up a lion costume made out of orange and beige, hints of silver accents peeking at times, "but, um..."

"Because I can."

. 

Miura Haru was fourteen and she taught Sawada Tsunayoshi that sometimes, dressing up could be an attitude as well. 

"Think of it as compartmentalizing parts of yourself," she explained while gushing over a bracelet she was making for herself: dark gray and green with hints of gold, a dragon to swirl up her increasingly muscled forearm. "Separate them and wear them, they're all you and different sides. For example, think about how you act differently depending on who you're around, it's essentially the beginning of the same thing."

"There was, um, something weird about the ending part of that last sentence," Tsuna mumbled with furrowed brows, clad in his new lion onesie for their sleepover. 

"What I meant was," Haru started, words slowing down form their usual river rush since she was now carefully painting the dragon's eyes with a thin brush, the golden color catching in the light, "it's not all that different. Hmmm, I'll finish this tomorrow." 

She glanced up at Tsuna, placing away the coiling metal bracelet she was painting. He shifted, as though watching her work on such a detailed piece had been lulling him to sleep. It made her eyes twinkle. "Ne, Tsuna-kun, you tired too?" 

"Mhm," he nodded, and even though the hood of his new, handmade onesie was down he looked like a lion, what with his messy caramel brown hair. He stifled a yawn, shooting her large terrarium one last glance: "Still can't believe you have a chameleon." 

Haru shrugged. "I feel sorry for her, must be boring in there." 

Tsuna raised his eyebrows. "Um, there are probably worse places to be."

It was now Haru's eyebrows which reached toward her hairline. "Say that to those in the slums." 

He cringed and she sprinkled a smug little laugh. 

They were in her room, a vast space themed beige and green, one wall covered by a grand jungle-poster where her shelf and terrarium were located, the rest somewhat more normal if absurdly luxurious, filled with girly trinkets and odd smells. Haru had pretended not to notice Tsuna sniffing at her different perfumes when first arriving. 

"Time to go to sleep then," she cheered, jumping to her feet and stretching, "jeez, am I glad we already brushed our teeth." 

Tsuna shivered: "Wouldn't want to go out to those dark hallways now. N-no offense." 

She giggled, "none taken, and besides, I feel the same." 

The Miura house was dark and cold at night, Haru's room and bubble of light and warmth. Ayato wasn't home, nor had Biwako been there that day: she'd started growing old, now only coming three times a week to cook and clean. 

One_ lights out_ later, the two fourteen year olds crept into their beds: Tsuna on a mattress on the floor, and Haru curled up beside him on her own mattress which she'd wrestled away from her bed. Two small, slim brunettes, legs pulled up close to their bodies and hearts hammering in their chests. 

Everything was real. 

Raw. 

True. 

. 

"_I won't make it for dinner,_" Ayato conveyed shortly, words rendered hollow and static over the phone which meant he was using somebody else's, "_you can eat without me_." On afterthought: "_Sorry_." 

"_Don't worry_," Haru told him, sincere, "_it's no problem_." 

The turquoise phone, heavy and clumsy with another toy -another falcon, this time with a white dove in its claws- was hurled across the room, bouncing once against the center of a round pillow before landing on the couch. 

"Bullseye!" 

"Good job," Tsuna said distractedly, the phone having landed next to him while he tried to study for the upcoming history test. The keyword being tried, because most of his time had been spent doodling love messages to his great love Kyouko, or simply sketching her. 

Haru plopped down to his other side, head tilted and freshly brushed bangs falling into soft waves around the right side of her face. "Hey, those drawings are pretty good!" 

"Thanks," he muttered, eyes closing, "I just..." 

Dark brown eyes stood expectant, honey brown eyes downcast. "Yes?" 

"Wish I knew." 

Haru waited another few moments to give him time in case the formulation was causing trouble, but when it became evident he was sinking back into murky thoughts she prodded: "Knew what?" 

He sucked in a deep breath, lungs expanding and as she watched his seams frayed, unraveled: "Everything, wish I knew how to talk to her and make her notice and like me, I wish I knew what to do and how to kiss and all of that, wish I could just..." his fingers curled and uncurled, "be good enough." 

"I think you're more than good enough, if that means anything," she offered, nestling close to him, "you're kind, sweet, caring and one of the most accepting people I know. And you can talk to me, and make me notice you, and you told me you were terrified of me at first, short skirts and popular and all that." 

"Hah," Tsuna managed, shoulders hunching, "but you're..."

"Not Kyouko-chan," Haru finished when he trailed off, not knowing what to say, "trust me, just try talking to her." 

"I'm bad at romance," he groaned quietly, agonizing over it, "I'm hopeless." 

Haru frowned, and then smirked teasingly, "we could practice." 

"What?" 

Haru flipped the very bewildered Tsuna onto his back in less than a second, muscled legs on either side of his thighs. She laughed down at him from where he was sprawled in the couch, red-faced and spluttering and bewildered. 

"Just kidding," she laughed, and he chuckled weakly, a dying sound like a mouse being squashed, "sorry, didn't mean to scare you." 

"You just-" he started, words breaking on their way and sticking to his tongue like dust, "there- you-"

Her shoulders quivered, sounds and tingles ricocheted inside and then spilled freely from her lips, unbridled laughter filling the room and not stopping, growing louder and louder and then Tsuna chuckled, again, then found he couldn't stop, and then they were both laughing and existing and wondering where the other person had been all of their life up until now.

.

There were moments when Haru felt odd, felt like reaching out to Tsuna yet at the same time not, felt like extending something and brushing against him. 

It was eerie. 

Disconcerting. 

Powerful.

.

Haru had made a habit of following Tsuna to school and noticed the difference. His bony shoulders were straightening, his back no longer as hunched, and consequently he was less of an obvious target which in turn fed into his growing self-confidence, creating a positive circle. 

(It helped that the devastatingly beautiful Haru was also devastatingly ego-bruising in fights.) 

But the eyes were by far the greatest change- 

Not Tsuna's, though these now reflected the sun, but the ones slitting her throat every time she saw the Namimori gates, the ones which burned her back when she walked away, the ones which mocked her every time she didn't whip around to locate their owners. 

The ones which were more animal than human. 

.

"Oh, Haru-chan, I love the green clips," Eri gushed, blonde high pigtails curled like frozen gold, touching the viridian bobby pins securing the left side of Haru's bangs to the side of her face. The the rest were free to frame her face in auburn, artificial waves which glistened with copper in the sunlight. 

"Green is my color," Haru smiled with dimples, leaning back to catch the sun in her face, eyes closing. It was an unusually warm day for October and she'd make the most of it, like with everything she encountered in life.

"Hmm, I still think blue looks nice," Naoko commented sleepily from her other side, "sure looks good on me, anyway." 

To which a skinny girl whose name Haru had forgotten agreed eagerly with them all that their shades of clothing were always so flattering, and a girl whose skirt was shorter than Eri's already impressively small one gasped something about material, and the clique of girls surrounding Haru and her two friends started buzzing louder and louder whilst throwing glances at the three fluffy-haired ones in the middle, looking, searching, hoping. 

.

"_Sorry, can't make it,_" Ayato's voice was distant again, like from an other phone or travelling, "_I'll be gone two days, emergency business trip. I've transferred enough money to you._" 

"Good luck, dad, bye." 

"_Bye_."

The numbers on Haru's bank account were now so large that she ordered five-star takeaway and bought the most expensive bottle of wine in the nearby shop which she proceeded to spike with a few gulps from the vodka bottle stashed behind the vases.

Excitement trembling in her voice, she cradled her phone to her ear: "Tsuna-kun? Want to have a special movie night?"

"What? N-now?" 

"Yeah! Oh, what do you want to watch, I'm in the mood for tears and drama and steam- mm, Titanic, maybe? Oh, there was this great new series which started airing before summer and I've got the CD, so how about Game of Thrones?"

"Isn't it supposed to be... violent and pornographic?" 

Haru snorted, a sound only she could transform into a ladylike tinkle. "It's called reality, plus we need more violence and sex in this house. I bet my parents only conceived me through-" 

"I don't want to know." 

"Great," Haru grinned like wildflowers, "see you in an hour?" 

He came. 

They ate, tried every drop of the wine bottle and stared at the screen until six in the morning with throats raw from laughing and telling the characters what to do. 

.

With a grunt, Haru hit the matted floor, ponytail messy and clothes baggy and sweaty all over and feeling an extra beat approaching alongside her heart. Her eyes gleamed and she tried to find the golden rush, the bloody thump, wanted to dredge it all back up to the surface and relive that moment, that incident at Namimori with Mochida. 

"Again, Awase-sensei."

.

"Hahi?"

Her winning smile melted like snow.

"His name is Yamamoto and he tried to jump from the roof." 

Haru's lips formed a pout, scrutinizing the newcomer, Yamamoto, who stood upon her doorstep. Tall, lanky, handsome, golden tan, hazel eyes, a mop of inky hair, an athletic build. Knowing the type, she was willing to bet this had been his worst introduction ever. 

"Why?" Haru asked, blunt and curious and not knowing him well enough to feel more than an automatic pity and flash of worry. Her brows knitted, long emerald-glittering nails winking in the sunlight. Her lashes, darkly coated like they'd started being over the past few weeks, cast harsh lines of shadow across her cheeks in the November light. "What happened?" 

He looked at her and tried to smile, the sort of automatic smile a popular jock was meant to flash girls like her, and her brows arched upwards like waves. His eyes were the blankest she'd ever seen. 

"Okay," she told Tsuna, "bring him in." 

The two boys walked inside, slipping shoes and jackets off in silence. The svelte brunette quickly shut the door: it was getting colder outside, winds nipping and unforgiving, the clouds heavy and gray. 

They'd almost made it up to her room when Biwako, once a middle aged nanny and now an elderly lady who did the cooking and cleaning every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, stepped out of the room she'd been vacuuming. 

"New friends?" Biwako asked with a cutting voice, gray hair pulled into a taut bun which seemed to drag her papery skin harshly against her bones, "Haru-san, you know-" 

"I don't think you need to clean this hallway," Haru interrupted curtly, gesturing for Tsuna to lead the empty-faced Yamamoto to her room. The two boys headed up the stairs as a scandalized look washed across Biwako's stern features. "The only person who has walked here since Monday is me, dad takes the other stairs and never comes here." 

"But those two men-" 

"Those boys are hardly dirty," Haru rolled her eyes, pretending to be oblivious. "So feel free to take the day off, you've earned it." 

The bribery dangled between them. Ayato wouldn't like the idea of Haru spending her days locked in her bedroom with two strange boys from Namimori, and though she doubted he'd cause much of a fuss it was still an inconvenience she'd rather avoid. On top of that, Tsuna was too much of a friend for her to even consider any of that and though she wouldn't mind some heated scenes between herself and Yamamoto, she had morals enough never to do that while he was a shitwreck. 

"I've known you all of my life," Biwako started slowly, stonily, and Haru's brain rushed with _what do you know about me you don't know me you don't know anything about me_, "so I won't say anything but the day you end up with a round belly, it will be entirely your fault." 

"Of course," the brunette droned, impatient and selfish, "now hop along." 

Biwako was too old to hop, but she grasped her free afternoon with eager hands and disappeared down the stairs. 

Haru slipped into her room, where Yamamoto had been seated upon her queen size bed, where he... sat. Just sat. Light breathing, staring without registering, hands limp, _existing_. Haru's heart cramped uncomfortably at the sight: nobody should look like that.

Tsuna has folded himself on the ground next to him, awkwardly twiddling his thumbs. She wondered why he'd come to her, but then again, the one time she'd met Nana for tea had left her with the impression that the older woman wasn't equipped for anything other than the sunlight and rainbows aspect of life. 

So Haru sat down next to Tsuna to the tall boy's other side, gingerly brushing her fingers against his golden ones. She wanted to say something, understand, empathy and curiosity blending together with a hint of frustration. "Hey."

Silence. It was heavy and audible, building in her throat and making her skin prickle. 

And it went on. 

And on. 

And on.

"Yamamoto-kun plays baseball," Tsuna broke the unbearable silence, "and he's good at it, really good at it, but-" 

Their eyes met, honey and cocoa. 

"-I don't think he realizes that."

So the problem was a feeling of not being good enough, never good enough, not enough for the world. Her fingers shifted back up, gently treading through his which rested upon the cream bed sheet next to her shoulder. This needed to be handled by a professional, not two teenagers! 

But Tsuna turned his warm eyes, too intuitive and keen now, to Yamamoto's and said: "You're real, you're with us now, and we're real. We know, we understand, it's like nature- we're like that." 

His lips parted, but the only sound escaping him was a marginally deeper breath. 

"And I'm not sure what happened when we fell-" hold on what? "-but I do know, and please don't ask how, that we're all in this together. We all have that... pulse, those Flames." 

"What?" Haru asked, and the naked look Tsuna gave her could've made a puppy whine with guilt. But Haru was no puppy and Haru did not like confusion. "What Flames? You... you jumped?" 

"Yeah," Yamamoto finally spoke, a hoarse crack of bitterness and irony which looked all wrong as it twisted his face like ghosts, "I jumped and he jumped after and I should be dead, he should be dead, but instead there was Fire and my world _broke_."

Maybe it was good that they hadn't gone to a specialist, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clearly all my chapter names will end up being words with multiple meanings. Crane stands for craning your neck (to catch a glimpse), lifting something and the stately bird. Also, Skyttraction is weird. 
> 
> Anyway, kudos and comments much appreciated like with just about any author^^


	3. Lean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what's happening to this fic and myself but I'm trying to contain the tide of dark stuff. At least they're already half a year older than canon? A year by the end of this chap???? One more until Reborn and unleashed Stuff??????  
(Since we're already a little "later" than canon, may I point out that Lambo and I-Pin aren't quite as babyesque anymore, eg I-Pin has a normal head now with a gravity-defying braid. Actually, all characters are 1/10th closer to their 10 years later selves.)
> 
> I'm not sure where my brain was when writing this, so apologies for the mess you're about to encounter...

_The formation of a new Family must always be an organic occurrence for it to hold. While the Sky and his Guardians shall be the core, Primary Members so to speak, it is very common and healthy for there to be so-called Secondary Members who, though not Harmonized or Harmonizing with the leading Sky, carry strong attachments and become integral to the Family. _

-Extract from _Giotto's Musings and Discoveries_, written by G

.

Yamamoto Takeshi felt disconnected. Everything which had tethered him to the world felt meaningless and laughable in its gray simplicity. He'd been good at baseball up until he wasn't anymore, and that had been that. He wasn't particularly good at school -he knew he wasn't the brightest- and while he loved the chiming feeling of being happy his smiles had become conscious choices rather than natural reactions. 

He'd been fake. 

Not real. 

He hadn't existed. 

Time had started moving abstractly, oddly, melting and solidifying and losing its importance. Up the stairs he'd gone to the school roof, the railing he'd climbed in the blink of an eye and he'd leaned out into the open air for an eternity. Then he'd fallen, but somebody must've grabbed ahold off his collar because there'd been an odd sort of yank for a moment and then that Sawada boy had hurtled to the ground at his side. 

Takeshi had felt something, then, for a few moments: a kind of guilt but not, a sense of fear for somebody else, an automatic expression morphing his face without much depth. 

It had been during the lesson after lunch: both had been skipping. Nobody had been there to witness it, witness when his world had been blasted away and turned into scorching sand which was then gusted away with the wind. Tsuna had screamed and then warm amber Flames had exploded from the small boy's body and cushioned their fall an arm's length from the cold concrete. 

Then they'd tumbled to the ground, a bruise gained but nothing more. Nothing compared to the sense of normality stripped away from them both. 

Takeshi had wanted to die again, just a little, to escape that feeling of not understanding, but the rest of him felt alive. His heart was beating again -he'd forgotten how it felt- and his flesh had tingled with sensations from being sprawled across the chilled grit of tarmac, and slowly the world seemed to be seeping back into him again. 

And now he sat in a Midori girl's room. 

She fired all sorts of questions at Sawada, who was answering them somewhat incompetently, but the rawness about them was uncomfortable. Like dipping feet into a hot bath after they'd been numbed by a winter wind for hours and hours. 

He didn't speak much, was tired and sore and just wanted to _sleep_ but his eyes would never close again, hours passed and he found himself with a distorted image of the trio they made. 

"But together we can be real," she assured, an arm thrown over his and Sawada's shoulder when she settled between them in her bed, "and that Flame thing... we'll figure it out. It'll be okay." 

.

Tsuna's alleged burst of Flames made very little sense yet struck a far too sensitive chord within Haru. Still, it could be put out of her mind with (major) difficulty, in favor of pouring her attention elsewhere. 

Yamamoto -though his fall had been what'd unleashed the mystery- was in need of attention. As in, attention by somebody who saw through the bullshit and was real with him. 

So she asked him, completely sincere and curious, "I like it when it storms and there's thunder, there's something dramatic about it and you can stay inside where it's warm and cozy. What kind of weather do you like?" 

"You're asking me about the weather?" 

Haru grinned. "Yup." 

He considered it, staring not quite at her but past her, out of the window of her room. Then he didn't quite look down. "I'm not sure." 

.

"Hahi?" 

"_Yes, hi,_" Ayato's voice was distracted, even over her phone, "_I won't make it home tonight, I'll stay at a hotel here in Kyoto. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon_." 

Haru nodded, trying to smile or frown but coming up blank. In the background, Tsuna and Yamamoto -who would now meet up with her and Tsuna to go to school together- were playing Mario Cart and she figured it was best if her father didn't hear their voices.

"Oh, okay, good luck with the meeting. I hope room service has good food."

.

She’d been waiting outside the arcade together with Eri: Naoko was still inside, queueing at the toilets. 

An older group of teenagers approached, with wide grins and easy laughs and confident strides. They started talking to the two girls, came close and nudged and towered, everything deliberate and swaggering. 

Eri tried to keep smiling, shoulders hunched. 

Haru didn’t bother to pretend and told them all to fuck off, and there must’ve been something off about her expression, because they all did. 

.

Haru was lean and slender and in her tight gymnastics clothes and cartwheeled across the beam, graceful and elegant and deliberate with stretched legs and pointy toes, then used her momentum to flip once and land softly, steadily. A momentary pause to show body control to the jury, showcasing that she didn't even shudder. 

Then she bent her knees and flipped herself backward in a cartwheel without the hands, floating through the air and then her feet touched the beam again, light and feathery. Another pause. A deep breath. 

Focus. 

There was nothing else in the world. 

Focus. 

It was her and the beam. 

The distance between her and the end was a tad shorter than she'd have liked -her back flip hadn't been long enough, not quite- but it wasn't too bad. Her mind was a spear tip: focus focus focus, sharper sharper sharper. 

She jumped upward, vaulted once in the air, landed on one foot and then flipped off the beam, landing with bent knees to absorb the impact before straightening. 

Her coach nodded at her, and Haru beamed up at the seats looking down at the gym to wave at Yamamoto. After a moment, he waved back. It had taken some coaxing to get him to attend: she was hoping a change of environment would do him good. 

He hadn't left yet. 

.

"How can you not have tried bubble tea?" Haru exclaimed, scandalized, too herself not to feel giddy at the prospect of introducing it to somebody- even if that somebody had tried to take his own life only a month ago. 

"Just never happened," Yamamoto not quite defended with a shrug, "other stuff to do." 

It seemed that other stuff was no longer there, because there were once again two boys in her bedroom. 

"Never really had a reason to," admitted Tsuna, and had it been any other person it would been a grumble, "you know, never... ah..." 

_Had friends._

Haru sprung to her feet, throwing her hands up with glee and sparkles: "Bubble tea time!" 

It was December and the expected icy rain showers had not lagged behind, pelting the world like small blades. Dancing down the stairs and slipping into her brand new pea coat, a lovely navy one, she hummed at the prospect of sitting in that cozy café where it'd be warm and bright. 

"Oh, they have this awesome carrot cake there," she spoke excitedly, "with a really great cream on top, sort of fresh but so sweet and fluffy." 

"Sounds really tasty," Tsuna decided, tying his shoelaces with a concentrated expression. Yamamoto was zipping up his jacket. 

"Oh it is," she beamed, absently wondering if her mascara would be ruined by the rain before shrugging up her fashionably oversized hood. "And if you're not into that kinda cake, there are lemon muffins and coconut biscuits and chocolate chip cookies. And the interior is totally fabulous, it's actually a big place but because of the many plants it looks cozy anyway." 

The three of them left the Miura House, large but not filled with enough plants and life to be more than a house, the downpour instantly pattering against her coat. She laughed at the buzzing sound. 

"Hahi! It's so loud." 

Yamamoto turned to face the iron gray skies, eyes closing and golden face glistening. Tsuna's cautious gaze didn't leave the taller boy even when he addressed her: "How far is it?" 

"Not very," Haru assured while they started walking down the road. "Maybe five minutes. It's just outside center, and there's a great shortcut through a garden." 

"Um, I'm not sure we're meant to sneak through people's gardens," he objected carefully, and she giggled. 

"Don't worry, I've never gotten into trouble for it before." 

And with one of her rainforest smiles she bounded off through the rain, the downpour veiling the surroundings and blurring the distance with gray. Yamamoto jogged after, long legs making it easier to keep up although Tsuna had more trouble catching up since he almost slipped when they turned a corner. 

Haru twirled around, eyes glittering with mirth and lips stretched wide to flash white teeth. "Tsuna-kun, don't be a Bambi! How are you going to survive ice?" 

Then her gaze turned to Yamamoto, who wasn't quite blank: there was a softness around his eyes, a kind of almost peace. Then he blinked away rain from his eyes and the moment passed. 

The brunette girl tore her attention back to a small passage between the side of a house and a thick hedge. She gave the ground an evaluating look, the kind she'd give chipped nailpolish: it was mud instead of asphalt, which her boots could take even though they wouldn't look as pretty anymore. 

Oh well. 

She slipped in, walking sideways to make sure she didn't drag her very much stylish and pretty pea coat against the wall. It was bad enough her boots would face a layer of mud, no way was her sleeve going to get a wipe of brick dust. 

Yamamoto and Tsuna followed. The former seemed rather used to taking such routes, probably from when he hung out with other friends (friends who weren't there now and were a certain way and expected you to be the same way, expected him to be the grinning athlete and never anything else). The latter was giving the hedge a wary look, as though it'd tattle on their plans. 

They reached the end of the passage, blocked by the fence marking the edge of the garden they'd be passing. Haru clambered over with practiced ease, jumping down to the other side. The grass was wet and well-mowed, hopefully getting rid of the worst mud. 

Yamamoto landed next to her. A few moments later, Tsuna had climbed down as well, opting against the jump but without incident. Haru jogged right through the garden without a care in the world, going past the house and reaching the street, where she hurried toward center. The houses were now all attached and grayer, with signs and curtains and parked cars. A café, a small makeup shop, a mechanic, the supermarket, shoe shop, a turn to the left and there it was: Bubbletease. 

The windows glowed with faint yellow and mellow laughter could be heard from inside. Haru wasted no time ushering the two dripping boys inside and closing the door behind her. 

Inside it was warm and dry, save for the damp footprints glistening on the floor which betrayed many others had come inside from the rain. High pots separated the tables and gave the illusion of privacy, a small queue lined in front of the counter where three employees were milling about. 

"Ah, can't wait to introduce bubble tea to newbies," Haru hummed, breathing in through her nose and pretending to smell something special and not her own melon conditioner. "An iconic moment- kinda like watching your favorite series with somebody and seeing their first-timeyness, it's _totally_ amazing." 

They shrugged off their jackets, thankfully mostly dry still, except for their faces and fringes. Haru inconspicuously wiped beneath her eyes to check if her mascara had run and rub any traces off in case it had. 

"I'd recommend the coconut milk as tea," she advised, "but the apple one is pretty good to. As for the bubbles... oh, mango or passion fruit!" 

"They have melon tea," Yamamoto noted, scanning the list of flavors for tea. Tsuna was looking at the possible types of bubbles: Haru had never understood why they called them bubbles, because as much as she liked them they were still just balls at the bottom of her plastic cup. 

A few minutes and a lot of flavor evaluating later, they left the counter to find a table. There was an empty one against the wall toward the back, although it still had a few crumbs on it from whoever had sat there before them. 

"Let's take it anyway," Yamamoto suggested, sliding into one of the three chairs, "we wouldn't want to loose it." 

Tsuna and Haru took a chair each as well, placing their cups and cakes on the table as well. Melon tea with blueberry bubbles and the carrot cake for Yamamoto, a cinnamon bun and apple tea and bubbles for Tsuna, and coconut tea with mango bubbles and a brownie with a perfectly decadent amount of cream for Haru. 

"So?" Haru asked them with wide eyes, leaning forward. Tsuna nodded, not parting from the straw. The raven smiled faintly. 

"The carrot cake _is_ very good."

Haru sparkled. 

.

"This is how you fight somebody with a blade," Awase started the lesson, and held up a very real kitchen knife. 

.

"Hey!" 

Ignoring the looks some boys gave her (yeah, of course she looked good, cold weather wasn't going to keep her from rocking the outfits), Haru bounded up to Tsuna who was seated on a bench not too far from the playground. Her bicycle was safely secured against a lamp post. It was an icy, sunny January day, the frost having refused to melt beneath the sun and stinging in the air. 

Tsuna looked absolutely adorable with his rosy cheeks and nose. His woolly hat kept his ears from going pink as well, and the way it flattened his hair along his face made him look like an elf. 

"Winter suits you," she informed him, "wish it'd snow, though! Hahi, maybe I'd _really_ get to see a Bambi on ice then, huh?" 

He cleared his throat, looking a little embarrassed but sitting up straighter. Haru gave him an expectant look. He blinked, then brightened with realization. 

"You look go- great." 

She nodded, smiling smugly with fluttering black lashes. "Told you I was green, gray and gold!" 

Her hair was out of its usual ponytail and styled into loose auburn curls, an emerald green beret atop her head and golden hoops winking in her ears. Her boots (now spotless again) and overcoat were both a dark gray, her skinny jeans a deep green and a bracelet peeking from under her cuffs: the golden-specked dragon bracelet she'd finished during one of their sleepovers. 

"It's all about color coordination," she divulged, perching herself next to him with lidded, glittering eyes. She wasn't adhering as firmly to _not too much, not too little anymore_ anymore, the heavy blackness of her lashes casting shadows across her cheeks when she blinked. As long as expertly applied, it would look good. "And about style, these clothes go well together." 

"Aren't you cold, though?" Tsuna blurted out, eyebrows drawing together, his own hands shoved deep into his pockets and chin buried into his scarf. 

Haru tinkled a giggle. "Not really- though I'll probably go looking for some more green shawls or mittens. Just in case. But anyway, why did you want to meet up?" 

She gave him a warm, searching look. 

Tsuna heaved a sigh, shoulders hunching and watching the little children play further down. Their laughter was free and young and untainted. They didn't know the difference between wildflower smiles and honey smiles, between having tripped and being struck, between cutting yourself by accident and having your ear nicked by a kitchen knife during self-defense classes. 

"You said you couldn't explain over the phone...?" 

He looked at the toddlers a little younger, and she could appreciate how adorable they looked: small and happy and squishy. (She never wanted to be a mother but sometimes the sight of babies left her filled with warmth and wonder.) 

"I'm not an only child anymore." 

Naked confusion fluttered over her features. "Hahi? I saw Nana-san only a few days ago, though, and she wasn't... oh, you mean she's pregnant?" 

He shook his head. "No." 

He gestured toward two of the children, a boy and a girl. The boy was freckled and mossy-eyed with curly black hair, and while the girl was black haired as well, that was their only similarity. Her eyes were dark and slanted, eyebrows thinner and ears much smaller. 

"Kaa-chan adopted them, I guess, maybe," he said, eyes softening despite his obvious apprehension, "they started playing on the street and, well, we took them in. I don't think it's legal, but... ah, kaa-chan must have a lot of luck because it always ends up okay with- with stuff like that." 

Haru watched them climb up the castle to reach the longest slide. "They seem very sweet." 

Tsuna told her their names were Lambo and I-Pin, they were eight years old and always bickered but refused to let go of each other, the boy spoke fluent Italian on the side and the girl struggled with her Chinese accent when she spoke. Lambo would tease her for it, but if anybody else mentioned it he'd go purple and teary eyed and hurt them. 

I-Pin would only stop him if somebody was watching and proceed talk people into letting him off the hook. 

.

Yamamoto was getting better. 

Nobody talked about how he'd survived his suicide attempt. 

.

There were moments, usually when applying her new L'Oreal Voluminous Mascara in the mornings or putting on dangling earrings or buttoning some wispy blouse which'd whisper along her skin like a breath, that she thought of Megume. 

Thought of a cold alleyway and ruined pants (gosh, what a pity for those pants) and bloody thighs. 

Thought of a million ways to fend of an assaulter (and somehow it always ended with her trying to explain to the police how she'd only murdered in self-defense). 

.

One day when arriving at the crossing where she usually met Yamamoto and Tsuna on her way to school, a third boy stood there. Tsuna's form was still subdued and Yamamoto regained had a naturally good stance, but this new one slouched lazily with a cigarette between his lips. His eyes were an unusual jade, not nearly as vivid as Lambo's yet sharper, his hair rather long and silvery, armed with all sorts of bands and rings and his uniform sloppy.

His name was Gokudera Hayato and he was new to Namimori. 

"The transfer student," Tsuna had reminded her in a hiss as they started walking, and Haru faintly remembered her best friend mentioning something about a new student a few weeks ago. She shot him an evaluating glare, taking in the callouses and chipped nails and harsh, steady movements. He noticed her stare and jutted his chin out, looking at her over the bridge of his nose and a snowy sneer. 

Did Tsuna, _her_ Tsuna, really have to grow so close to this Gokudera guy that he had to become part of their clique? 

.

It was mid-February and gymnastics practices were only twice a week now that exams weren't too far away anymore. Enough to keep in shape but less than normal to allow for studying now that the regional championships were over. She'd done very well but missed the nationals by a hair's breadth due to the team's average. 

Eri and Naoko were discussing whether one of them would become vice-captain of the female volleyball team next year, something which was very likely, and were swearing that if the other got it they would accept that. 

"Tell you what," Eri said as the three of them, as well as many other giggling girls with short skirts despite the weather and outrageous earmuffs topping their heads, walked down out through the gates, "Naoko-chan, if I get it I'll buy you that lipstick you saw yesterday at the mall."

Naoko nodded, pursing her glossy red lips before lighting up. "And if I get it, I'll pay for the next hair product you buy." 

Haru smiled at them both, about to say something. 

She didn't get the chance to. 

The sea of girls around them had parted to let one of the chosen few boys (requirements: tall, handsome and non-evil looking, or the student president who could have something important to say even though he was ugly) through, and she recognized Yamamoto. Naturally they'd let him through. Over the past few months he'd come smile frequently again and his eyes had life back in them, and he'd started playing baseball again. Haru had thought he was attractive before. 

This was just unfair. 

His lips twitched when he spotted her. "We're going to Tsuna's today, want to come along?" 

Eri and Naoko were giving him their prettiest smiles. Haru grinned like a field of wildflowers and left the clique with him. Tsuna was waiting a little further down the street, and (of course, _of course_) Gokudera stood there as well. Leaning against a wall and smoking. 

Reluctantly she had to admit he was rather handsome, too, with a surprisingly delicate bone structure, but he still wouldn't have been let through. Too much danger. 

Tsuna waved at them when they approached. Gokudera scowled and exhaled curling vapors. 

"I thought we could all study together," the brunette boy smiled softly, "and kaa-chan baked cookies yesterday." 

"Sounds great," Haru nodded, smoothing out her winter uniform jacket in case of any unlikely creases. "I have so much maths to study, it'll be much more fun with friends and her baking" 

They started walking toward his house. Gokudera drawled: 

"Didn't think you were the type to eat snacks." 

Haru tried not to square up, lips pressing into a thin line and head held high: 

"Didn't think you'd have anything better to say, anyway."

His upper lip curled, eyes gleaming. "Maybe you should think a little more." 

Something fizzled inside, something to do with her finding Tsuna at his lowest and hating conforming to the _short-skirt, merry-smile girl_ expectations of her. 

"Oh," Haru smiled sweetly, "Haru-chan is thinking plenty." 

Tsuna's wide-eyed stare flitted from one to the other. Yamamoto shook his head with a faint smile. "Come on, guys, no need for that."

Haru shot the tall boy in front of her one last defiant glare, which the silverette returned, but they both turned on their heels and accompanied Tsuna without saying an other word to one another. 

.

"_Haru-chan I don't know what I'm going to do I can't handle it,_" Tsuna wailed over the phone, "_how am I supposed to even open the door for her! Should I, like, stand in the doorway or on the side so that she can come right in without that weird shuffling-to-the-side thingy? Or no, it'd be weird for me to be standing like that, right?" _

She laughed, a dress for a 1920s cosplay on her lap and sewing kit next to her on bed. "Tsuna-kun, you don't need to be so nervous about that. Just open the door and let Kyouko-chan in the way you let me or Yamamoto-kun in." 

"_Why did Yamamoto-kun invite her? He knows I can't, you know- I can't,_" he swore, "_Kyouko-chan is going to be in my house!_" 

"Yep," Haru chimed, comparing the colors of various silk ribbons splayed around her to see what would go best with the dress. "Just like Yamamoto-kun, Gokudera-kun and I will be." 

"_But it's her first time coming here,_" he insisted, and she could imagine him quivering in his room, "_so her older brother is probably gonna walk her here and that's really, really bad, because he's intense and probably wouldn't like her being with a bunch of boys or me._" 

"He can't be that bad," she soothed, "otherwise you'd have mentioned him before." 

"_He's very, um, extreme. You'll see,_" he promised, and she selected a pale lilac ribbon, "_I'm freaking ou-_" 

"How about this," Haru interrupted, "I'll let her in, okay?" 

.

Most of the time, Haru walked if she needed to get somewhere. That was because halfway she'd usually started walking with somebody -often Tsuna, or Eri and Naoko- to that particular destination. But sometimes she knew that wouldn't happen. 

Then she raced dangerously fast on her bike with a thumping heart and scratching wind and bubbling laughter because whenever there was a slope she almost thought she was flying. 

.

"Soon, you'll be in preschool and I can braid you hair like this every morning," Haru smiled, working on I-Pin's inky hair with nimble fingers, "it's really close to where I meet up with Tsuna-kun and Yamamoto-kun, and Gokudera-kun, every morning." 

"You will?" I-Pin asked and she could hear a smile in her voice. They sat in the living room, Nana fixing with something in the kitchen and the sounds warming the house, cold rain clawing at the earth outside. The Sawada home was a bubble of safety and warmth. 

"As long as you want me to," Haru assured, finishing up the braid. "Tell you what, in a year you'll start elementary school and I can do twin braids." 

The typical schoolgirl braids. Haru had never worn them, mostly because paired with that awful pencil-straight fringe Megume had suggested she'd looked icky, but I-Pin would look adorable. 

There was some ruckus upstairs when Lambo bounded through Tsuna's room, and the two girls downstairs giggled when they heard Tsuna scolding his younger brother. There was an other sound, foreign yet familiar, and Haru barely dared to believe that it was Yamamoto laughing. 

But that had to be him, because she knew Tsuna's laugh and Gokudera was coming down the stairs with a couple of empty plates to leave in the kitchen. Their eyes met, and both scowled. 

Haru finished I-Pin's braid, Gokudera returned upstairs, and the bell rung. 

"I'll get it," she announced, getting up from the couch and skipping to the door. She wasn't sure what to expect when opening it, but Kyouko was almost terrifyingly pure in her sweetness at first sight. 

"Hello," the new girl said, her voice a light chime. Her ginger hair was in a feathery bob and she had the largest lime eyes Haru had ever seen. She was hovering somewhere between slender like a sprite and downright thin, with small hands and clear skin, and her clothes were a demure kind of cute. "You must be Haru-san, Tsuna-kun has told me about you." 

Her smile was like strawberries and cream. Naturally. Sincere. 

"Hi," Haru said blankly, then kicked herself because this was Tsuna's great love. So the brunette grinned widely with perfectly crinkling eyes, and continued: "I'm so glad to finally get to meet you, Tsuna-kun has been talking _so_ much about you as well. Please come inside." 

She did, placing her shoes neatly next to the others. There was no sign of some scary older brother. 

"He has?" Kyouko asked, looking (adorably, of course) surprised. Then she looked a little bashful. "Oh." 

"Of course," Haru assured, telling herself she was absolutely not intimidated by this fragile little girl (who, on a totally unrelated note, didn't have curves like her own), "I mean, sometimes I even wondered if you were real, you sounded so amazing. Hahi- I love your hair, by the way, it's cute." 

Kyouko's cheeks reddened. It didn't clash with her indeed very pretty hair. "Thank you, yours looks very nice as well." 

The brunette laughed, hand rising to double check her bangs. Still good. Kyouko probably would've found something else to compliment if it hadn't been. "Why thank you! Come on up, the others are already here." 

Haru wondered if Gokudera and Kyouko got along. 

Then she wondered if this girl would become a regular like Gokudera was becoming. And what color palette she'd have to have in mind if she made anything for her. Yamamoto was blue, bronze and tan. Gokudera was deep red, black and white. Kyouko... perhaps a light amber, pink and artichoke green. 

Yes, seemed about right. 

When they stepped into Tsuna's room, the boy in question seemed to evolve into some sort of stammering, wide-eyed mess who instantly gave up his place to the shyly protesting Kyouko. 

Yamamoto was failing at smothering a smile. Gokudera looked off-put but at least didn't complain about having to sit next to the girl instead of Tsuna. Sensible. Haru sunk down in between Yamamoto and the silverette in question, who smelled of smoke and cheap cologne and something vaguely burned. When they did their homework, he never asked or needed help, filling out frustratingly good answers without barely thinking about it.

The scent stung in her nose, but wasn't entirely unpleasant. 

Ayato would despise him. 

Haru offered him her eraser when he couldn't find his. 

.

It was around three in the morning when Haru snuck into her house after too much dancing and too much cider at the Exams Are Over party she'd been at since nine in the evening. 

Her lips were bruised. 

.

"How did your exams go?" Ayato asked over a plate of teriyaki. He hadn't changed out of his business shirt yet, the top button done and collar safe around his neck, but at least he wasn't in his suit. That would have made Saturday dinner -always the most elaborate ones, and so long since the last time he'd spent a Friday and Saturday at home- unbearable. 

"Good," she said, "I aced history and geo, and maths went okay. The rest went pretty good." 

He nodded, correcting his collar. As though Haru wouldn't have noticed the hickey peeking out over it when he first stepped through the doors. 

"How did your trip go?" 

"Very well," he said. 

Haru swallowed down another bite of teriyaki, trying not to look hungover from yesterday's party at Eri's and Naoko's: her ears rung when going to bed form the loud music and her feet still ached- a pleasant ache, because it reminded her of the fun she'd had. 

"I've made a very good deal," he continued, and started talking about something or another to which she nodded every now and then. Her nails shimmered with glittery gold nailpolish. He hadn't noticed yet. "Is there anything you'd like?" 

"No, I don't think so..."

Haru hated teriyaki. 

.

Her name was Bianchi and she was Gokudera's older sister. She wore goggles which managed to look good on her even though their orange tint shouldn't go with her rosy hair, allegedly for her little brother's sake. 

Haru wasn't too sure about that, but considering the bad blood she sensed between them paired with the hidden, soft glances one would throw the other when nobody was looking, it maybe wasn't so far fetched after all. 

Bianchi's eyes were the same jade as Gokudera's, and there was something similar about their cheekbones, but any similarities ended there. Perhaps the spiderlike hands were reminiscent of each other's as well. She said she was there to help Nana out in the house, help with Lambo and I-Pin, and had even moved in. She was much nicer to be around than her aggravating younger brother. 

She had a lovely, red-lipped smile. 

A lovely husky voice. 

And could sense somebody's presence from the other side of the street, always on the brink of paranoia. 

.

They'd been at Yamamoto's a little too long and it was dark outside. Haru didn't think twice about it -well, she did, briefly, but there was a switchblade in the depth of her pretty pea coat's pocket- but Tsuna was fretting. 

Until Gokudera informed her, "I'll walk you home," and did exactly that, smoking all the while with a pensive frown while she marveled at the stars above. When they reached her home she wondered if she would have invite him in out of politeness, but before she could say anything he shook his head and her shoulders unwound. She'd never realized she'd been tense in the first place. 

"Is it far to your place?" Haru wondered, and he snorted. 

"Twenty minutes, maybe," he said, and looked kind of rugged in the dim lighting. His dismissive tone still annoyed her, though. 

"And your parents?" 

This time he smirked sharply, ironically, turning away and starting to walk. "Don't worry about those." 

Something clicked, her eyes narrowing when she called out:

"Do I ever have to worry about them?" 

A jade green glance over his shoulder, meeting her eyes. "No." 

.

Biwako got to go home four whole hours earlier as payment in exchange for her discretion. Ayato wouldn't notice if one section of the house hadn't been cleaned for a few days, anyway. 

"Today," Haru announced, standing on the couch with greasy takeaway noodles, a can of beer and a bottle of sangria on the table next to her, the TV on and three boys looking up at her. "Today, episode one of season two Game of Thrones comes out. Yamamoto-kun, Gokudera-kun, do you hereby swear you have caught up to Tsuna-kun and me and finished the first season?" 

The two newcomers to marathon night (only the first episode had aired, but they'd find something else to watch afterwards) nodded. Tsuna smiled at them, approving: 

"Then we will watch this series together from now on."

.

The two weeks of vacation before term would start beginning of April passed quickly. 

"You never decided on what you wanted this year," Ayato spoke up while fixing his tie, getting ready to leave. The only reason Haru was up this early was to go to the park, where the squad would be for the day (_and she didn't ever want to leave them because somehow she belonged with them, really belonged in a way that was almost terrifying because that energy just wanted to._..). "As a gift for the good grades." 

"I don't know," Haru shrugged, "I haven't really wanted anything."

There was a pause. Ayato was clearly feeling the pressure of neglecting his role as father. "Are you absolutely certain?" 

Perhaps it was the early hour, but a spike of anger zapped her as though she'd shocked herself. "Yes, absolutely." 

There was the rustle of him slipping into his coat and buttoning it. "Well, if there is anything, feel free to tell me." 

"Yes," she snapped with a shriek bubbling inside and her veins sizzling with energy, "_Haru-chan gets it_. You'll be late if you don't go now."

.

The wind raced through her hair and the wheels of her bike whirred and there better not be anybody stepping out onto the street from nowhere because that person might end up dying if she hit them. 

For a moment, she could feel energy and weightlessness and she just wanted to sprout wings and take off and her grin stretched wider and wider. 

Then she rounded a corner and it wasn't downhill anymore. 

.

When Miura Haru started her third year at middle school, her lips were covered with subtle gloss and her lashes by expert black. Earrings glittered on each ear: one of her ears winked with two additional small studs. They were new. A three headed dragon sigil dangled as a toy from her phone now, her nails were perfectly manicured and her hands covered by fingerless gloves. 

She wore her skirt short, her blouse tucked in and fuchsia headphones around her neck. Her hair was carefully styled, the bangs separated from the rest of her longer hair by a green ribbon. The free auburn locks danced around her shoulders. 

When Miura Haru started her third year at middle school, it was with Tsuna on her right, Yamamoto on her left, and Gokudera to Tsuna's right. Tsuna was taller than when she'd first met him, starting to grow out of his boyish frame but still slight, his eyes more proportionate and once every now and then even dragging a brush through his hair. Yamamoto was laughing heartily, making Haru feel warm inside, his hazel eyes alight and hands so much larger than hers whenever he gestured. Gokudera was smoking, his uniform sloppy and bands and rings adorning his fingers and wrists. But his expression was one of humor. 

When Miura Haru started her third year at middle school, it was by accompanying others to Namimori Middle and knowing there was no other place than Namimori High she'd go to next year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lean: to partially place your weight on something to your side, to be slim/wiry. 
> 
> I call upon you all to make Haru the fandom bicycle! All your creative ideas for strong fem characters in the KHR universe can from now on be projected onto her. Thank you. 
> 
> Yes, Gokudera genuinely became friends with Tsuna and Yamamoto without anybody knowing Tsuna had ties to the Vongola. Sometimes it's just meant to be. I really like his character, but I figured it'd take some time for him and Haru to warm up to one another... 
> 
> Shameless self-advertisement: I have a fem!Tsuna story which I'm recommending it until I manage to update this again. (alsothereissmut)


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